


Yellow Tie

by thecolourclear (afinch)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Break Up, Post-Break Up, Set During Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-22
Updated: 2006-07-22
Packaged: 2018-11-06 23:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinch/pseuds/thecolourclear
Summary: "You ask for my tie, then my coat, then my shirt, then my pants and I stand before you like some idiot prize while you grin and ask if I want your tie and your coat and ..." he couldn't finish, just stood, trapped, in the corner he'd retreated to – Josh was between him and the door. Between him and his way out.





	Yellow Tie

**Author's Note:**

> for the tww_minis July challenge of Sam. Written for fluffybkitty (on LJ).

Josh jiggled his foot in the diner, scanning the faces of the others, smiling whenever he happened to catch someone's gaze; he desperately hoped Sam would show up so he wouldn't look so ... alone. He smiled nervously again at a woman who kept looking his way and scowling and breathed a sigh of relief as Sam walked in. Sam, Josh noted, was wearing his ugly yellow tie, with his grey suit. Not what Josh would have picked had he been meeting himself. The suit, he could get over, the tie ... not so much. The two exchanged a quick hug, during which Josh murmured, "Took you long enough."

Sam grinned sheepishly as both men sat down, "I was, uh, a little sidetracked." He glanced at the outfit Josh was wearing, and smiled, it was a deep blue, with a silver tie. Sam wondered if Josh had a meeting with someone important. It didn't hit him that might possibly have been the person who was that important.

Josh didn't grin back, "You're in Washington, _visiting_ and you manage to get ... Laurie. You saw Laurie." When Sam didn't deny it, Josh laughed and shook his head, "Next thing you know, you'll be telling me that you're engaged or something else equally ridiculous."

"Well ... I am seeing someone," Sam hedged. Seeing the incredulous look on Josh's face, he quickly added, "Not named Laurie. Back in California."

Josh raised a brow and nodded, "Not named Laurie? Well are you going to tell me her name?" Whomever she was, Josh didn't like her already. Not with that tie, anyway, which she'd probably picked out and insisted he packed. The more Josh thought about it, the more he decided that was the truth, that this woman had absolutely no sense of fashion. She probably made him change his shirt every morning too.

"Chenille."

"Like the _fabric_?" Josh's voice hit a certain octave that only Josh could reach and Sam winced. Josh seemed to take no note of the wince, if he did, he ignored it; he placed his hand emphatically on the table and let out a short laugh, "Sam, you cannot date this girl."

"I don't think you're in a place to tell me who I can or can't date, Josh," Sam said quietly, with a hint of warning. No, her name wasn't all that common, but Sam liked her – Sam loved her – she was the product of all his dreams. He hadn't expected Josh to react quite so strongly. But of course, there had been a lot of things with Josh he hadn’t expected.

"Of course I can, I'm your friend," Josh said smugly.

The conversation wasn't going well on either end, and perhaps would have ended had Josh not tried to save it with his next comment.

"I'm quitting the White House."

And Sam, still smart from the comment about Chenille, laid his hand down on the table in a perfect imitation of Josh and said, "Josh, you cannot quit the White House."

Josh merely tipped his head to one side and shrugged, "Ok."

Sam looked surprised, "Really?"

"No," Josh grinned in that boyish way of his and looked around, pleased the cranky woman had left. Then he glanced back at that horrid tie of Sam's, and wicked ideas of tugging it off tickled the edges of his brain. He looked back to the counter, one more time, just to make sure he was sure, then smiled at Sam, "We should get out of here."

"I never got my coffee," Sam either agreed or protested.

"There's coffee at my place," Josh settled. He stood and grabbed Sam's coat, nodding at the door, "Let's go."

Sam had no choice but to follow, and it wasn't until they were almost there that he thought to turn to Josh in the small cab and ask, "Where are you going?"

"Chasin' down dreams," Josh grinned, over tipping the cabbie and strolling up to his apartment, still holding Sam's coat.

"Whose campaign?" Sam asked, reaching for his coat and failing to grab it. He stepped into the familiar apartment and almost petulantly took a seat when Josh tucked the coat over his arm and stepped into the bedroom. When he emerged a few moments later, he was beaming.

"What was the question? Sorry," he said, preparing coffee while trying not to laugh at the childish antics of Sam.

"Whose campaign?" Sam repeated, trying unsuccessfully to keep from looking at the bedroom door where his coat was captive. Obviously Josh had nothing important to do that day, or he wouldn't be playing some twisted game of 'Hold Sam Captive', but how did he know Sam had no place to be? Sam sighed inwardly as he realised he'd reassured Josh that when they met, he would have no other place to dash off to.

Not that it particularly mattered at the moment, for even if he did, he couldn't go. Sam took his coffee and sipped at it while Josh watched him expectantly. "What?" he asked, suddenly nervous.

Josh leaped over the back of the sofa and sat next to Sam, "I said Santos and you didn't blink. You keep looking at the bedroom ..."

"My coat," Sam said stubbornly, placing his unfinished coffee down and standing. "I need my coat. I have to go." He looked conflicted for the first time, torn between two worlds. Mind over matter, he reassured himself, and the world he'd left behind two years beforehand crumpled. "I have to go. I can't ... stay."

Josh, while disappointed, didn't skip a beat. "Give me your tie first," he demanded, grabbing for the ugly thing.

Sam jumped up, holding Josh at bay, "No. My coat. And then I am leaving." He edged towards the bedroom door, swallowing hard, "So, CJ's doing rather well ..." He felt the doorknob in his back and reached to open it.

At the same time, Josh, eager little kitten that he was, pounced. Both men flew through the door and crumpled at the foot of the bed. For two minutes it was a whirl of grey and black, yellow and silver, until Sam managed to pull himself away, shaking.

"No." He wasn't sure what he was saying no to – hell, yes he was. He was saying no to everything. He had a girlfriend, he had a job, and he had a life. He'd left this all behind two years ago, he couldn't just visit again and pick up all the pieces and have it be just like it was. There was no going back to the way it was, and if Josh, in his youthful stupidity couldn't see that, Sam would set it straight for him.

"Yeah, yeah, your coat," Josh said, straightening his tie as he stood. "But first that godawful excuse for a tie first."

Sam clutched at it protectively, "No."

Josh caught the hint of panic in Sam's voice and sat on the edge of the bed, nodding slowly, "I'm not going to ..."

"You ask for my tie, then my coat, then my shirt, then my pants and I stand before you like some idiot prize while you grin and ask if I want your tie and your coat and ..." he couldn't finish, just stood, trapped, in the corner he'd retreated to – Josh was between him and the door. Between him and his way out.

"I wasn't going to," Josh said quietly. "I wasn't."

The two men fell into silence, both of them close to tears. There had been more than sex lost when Sam had left; there had been a chasm created in what had once been a deep and beautiful friendship. There was a void – each of them felt it, though they could not explain it – where the other had been. While they were not shedding tears at the moment, both of them had, in the quiet of their own alone – when Chenille was gone, and Josh didn't have a girl to entertain. When the desire to feel one another's embrace had become so strong, nothing but that very thing could quash it. When memories threatened to turn into regrets.

For now both men would entertain their own thoughts of what was, and what might of been, and what was not to be. Then, in a silence that neither could fill, Sam would take his coat and quietly walk out the door. Perhaps he would leave his tie, though it was unlikely – it was a gift from Chenille, he would not want Josh to take some meaning into it – he would not want it to already be marred.

He will go back to California and eventually ask Chenille with her terrible tie taste to marry him. She will say yes, and some small piece of him will die. Later, when Josh asks him to join the staff, he will say yes, but that small piece of him will not come back to life. It will lay there, at the bottom of the chasm, for the remainder of his time.


End file.
